


Tent Secrets

by RurouniHime



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Discovery, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, HP: EWE, M/M, Post - Deathly Hallows, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RurouniHime/pseuds/RurouniHime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco, Harry, and a few minutes to themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tent Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [piratesmile331](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=piratesmile331).



> Slightly AU if you want to look at it that way. Contains minor DH spoilers.

Even with the charms, the tent's wall bowed out in the wind. Draco felt Harry slide one hand further up the slick skin of his back, bracing him. He pressed his open mouth against Draco's throat and exhaled raggedly there. Draco tightened a leg around Harry's hips, urging him closer, and up. He bit his lip, hearing his own stilted gasps hissing forth. It always felt too loud, even though he knew they couldn't be heard, even though he could feel Harry trembling against making more noise.

They hadn't even made it fully out of their shirts this time. Draco tugged Harry's head close, hugging, feeling the repeated brush of lips on his throat as Harry thrust into him. Supposed to be discussing plans, weren't they, but they had already, they'd imparted all necessary information, and it was hard to find time for this as it was. Never in the dark, never when the rest of the tent's beds were full. Draco panted into Harry's black, wild hair, feeling his belly begin to contract, his hips to shudder. His trousers were bunched, unbuckled and slung down on the floor. He could feel the slide of loose fabric over his chest from Harry's worn jumper. Harry hitched him just a touch higher on the cot and quickened his rhythm a tiny bit. His panting gasps matched Draco's, secretive and soft, but the need in them built audibly. It was quick, always, but never too quick. Quiet, but that was alright. Draco found Harry's mouth and kissed it, heard him whisper, "Alright?" and nodded.

The tent's flap flew open before Draco could blink.

"Harry, I'm thinking perhaps we should head for—"

And then dead silence. Harry pulled up and looked toward the opening. Draco followed his gaze instinctively and found Granger, her mouth clamped tight, eyes wide. She let out a soft huff of breath and licked her lips. Half-turned. Rounded again and stared for just a moment, and then turned fully and left the tent on quick steps, her head lowered.

Harry eased out of him too quickly. Draco slumped back onto the cot, feeling the loss, the newly cold air, missing Harry already. Heat climbed belatedly up his face as he watched Harry grab his trousers from the ground. His lover shot him a wordless, apologetic look. He tugged his trousers up, buckled his belt, and wiped his face with one hand, all within five seconds, then made for the tent flap almost as quickly as Granger.

Draco lay there breathing hard for another few seconds, and then sat up and swung his legs over the edge. The floor was cool under his bare feet.

Salazar. They'd been doing rather well, actually. Not one time had anyone managed to walk in on them, not from the first heated kiss to the first tentative fumbling of Harry's hand down his pants. Not even the first time they'd fucked, quickly and nervously against the spelled wall of the tent, biting their own tongues to keep silent and half expecting to be heard anyway. Not at all satisfying, and yet memorable. Draco still felt wisps of Harry's first clutches at his hips from behind whenever he held him afterward. Draco was beginning to think he himself was quiet by nature during sex, simply because he was getting so good at it, because he found he could hold the moans back. He'd been half anticipating a time when perhaps it would not be so necessary. He'd been half hoping that he wouldn't be one to make ridiculous sounds during sex when that time came.

But he hadn't been counting on Granger. Draco smoothed a hand over his face, wiping away sweat and feeling a little bit more unclean than usual. Clearly, he did not like being watched. And clearly, neither did Harry. At least he wasn't still hard. That had faded quite quickly.

He wondered what he was supposed to do. Maybe there was etiquette for this sort of thing, for shagging over unspoken things in a tent while trying to keep mum about it to everyone else. He realised with a slight start that he and Harry hadn't ever really had a conversation about It, and certainly not about this contingency. Just the methods of "quick" and "quiet," and continued success to bolster their efforts.

Well, now someone knew. And not just someone, Harry's best friend. One of them, at least. If Granger knew, Weasley might end up knowing. Draco wasn't sure; he didn't know Granger well enough to judge. But he could well imagine the fallout from that revelation.

Draco blew out a breath and reached down for his trousers, pulling them over his cold feet and up to his hips. He busied himself with the fastening of his belt, making sure his wand was still safely in his pocket, and then sat down on the cot again, closing the ends of his shirt over his chest and buttoning those up as well. He missed a button at the bottom and had to start over.

The tent flap opened again and Harry entered. Draco met his eyes across the narrow space. Harry gave him a tiny smile. "Hey."

"Hey."

Harry padded back over the floor to the cot and stood for a moment. Draco didn't look; he continued with his shirt, adjusting the collar until it fell right again and smoothing his hair into some state of acceptability. At last, Harry lowered himself to sit on the cot beside him with a sigh. "Sorry about that. She... She didn't know."

Draco shrugged. He leaned down and grabbed one of his shoes, then stretched further for the other one, feeling ungainly and only remembering after he'd dragged them both over that he could have summoned them with his wand. "Had to happen eventually, didn't it?"

He felt Harry nod.

"Well, it's... It's no big deal. Should be getting on with dinner anyway." Draco stood quickly and tugged his shirt straight. His future seemed very blank for the first time in a long time. He'd usually been able to see where he was headed, at least most days, and it had to do with camping and concealing them all, and searching for runaway followers of a dead Dark Lord.

Surely Harry wouldn't want to keep going now. Surely he wouldn't want to continue this scurrying, scrambling little affair now that his friend knew about it. Not with him, Draco Malfoy, anyway. Slipping trouser flies open and hands down them every few days, and managing a few awkward, needy kisses when they couldn't, had been all well and good. It was just a little bit too much in everyone's face now.

He still had so much to atone for anyway.

He bent and pulled his shoes on one after the other, somehow able to keep his balance on one foot, by the grace of a lost deity somewhere. Harry's still-bare feet rested on the floor within his sight. As he watched from the corner of his eye, ten toes curled once and relaxed.

"I didn't mean to just leave," Harry said softly. "I only... wanted to explain to her."

"Yeah," Draco replied automatically. Explain what? It wasn't anything he himself could define, and he was one of those directly involved. He hadn't even tried to define it; such a thing seemed too presumptuous, and it was just as easy to continue without definition, finding Harry alone in the tent or in a copse of trees to the side, or being tugged a little ways from the camp when dawn was about to break and everyone was still asleep. It was fine, doing that. It _had_ been fine.

"Quick explanation," he commented to the floor as he tied his laces, speaking against his better judgment. He glanced up in time to see Harry nod. Draco hesitated, then looked back down at his task.

He wanted to ask what Harry had said to her. But he didn't think he wanted the answer, or, worse, the possibility of Harry not answering. Of shrugging, maybe, and keeping silent about it. So he stayed silent himself.

"I'm sorry she saw us."

Draco's throat constricted. He swallowed and yanked his final lace tight, glaring at his shoe. "Yeah."

He could feel Harry's eyes on him. Harry cleared his throat. "No, I mean…" -more quietly, "that she saw us right then."

The tension in Draco's body faded a touch. He didn't know what to say. His shoulders shrugged on their own. "Me too," he whispered.

Harry made some sort of movement, then withdrew. Draco straightened belatedly and made himself turn around. It was still hard to look Harry in the eye.

"She's not going to say anything. You know, if, um... If..." Harry licked his lips. His eyes flicked over Draco's face.

Draco felt his cheeks heat up. He glanced down. "Yeah," he said again.

Harry breathed quietly, in, out, in and out. Then, "She didn't mean to look so… She was more surprised than anything." He waited, but Draco had no response, and he went on. "I told her to let it alone."

"Just as well," Draco found himself answering. Nothing but the clichés were coming; the rest of his words were little quaking blockages in his throat. Harry exhaled, sounding relieved, and ran a hand through his tangled hair. It was windblown, snatched at by the breeze on his dash outside after Granger. Draco stared at it for too long, and only looked away when Harry peered up at him again.

Just minutes ago, Harry's shirt had been rumpled up over pale stomach, his trousers gone. Just minutes ago, he'd been rather… inside Draco. And then Granger came in, and now he wasn't. Draco shoved his hands into his pockets for lack of other ideas.

It was a bit more than a blow to know that this stood a good chance of being over.

"Are you… You're alright, yeah?"

Draco lifted his head, a bit too fast, he thought, and rocked back on his back foot. "Fine. I'm fine." His body still felt rather empty, but he wasn't sick to his stomach like just after the first time they'd done it. He wondered what he'd looked like to Granger there on the cot, if she'd thought— He was beginning to think that when it all really caught up to him in an hour or so, he was going to feel a lot worse about things.

He hadn't intended to lose his virginity at age eighteen in a forest somewhere. He wondered if Harry had. And then realised— a day for realisations— that he didn't know if Harry had been a virgin before they'd had sex. He glanced at Harry and found him looking back. There was a lot he didn't know.

"Probably wondering where we…" Draco gestured halfheartedly toward the entrance to the tent. Harry's eyes darted between his, a certain odd heat in them, and he dropped his gaze. Nodded.

"Yeah."

Draco moistened his lips, still facing Harry, not moving for far too long to ignore. The wind knocked against the side of the tent, jarring, and he straightened. Found his feet could move again, and turned around.

Fingers closed around his wrist.

Draco looked back, trying to keep the slack disbelief out of his face. Harry still sat on the cot, knees a little way apart, looking down at his own hand where it clutched Draco's wrist. Finally his eyes rose to Draco's.

"I wish we hadn't been—" Harry took a breath and let it out. "I'm sorry. That it got cut short."

Draco looked at him wordlessly. Harry's face was expectant, waiting, and finally Draco nodded instead of answering. Harry's mouth curved in a fleeting smile. Draco's returning smile felt stiff, but present. He tried to move toward the exit again, but the hand on his wrist remained, pulling him up.

"You want to... try again tonight?" Harry studied him earnestly. "They're all going to town to gather supplies. Dean's going to watch the perimeter."

Draco stared at Harry, not quite wanting to speak. Still not sure he was being offered a return to normality. At last he sucked in a breath— too harshly, he could hear it— and gave a quick nod. "Yeah, that's... good."

Harry nodded slowly, his face relaxing. He pushed his glasses up on his nose. Draco realised very belatedly that they hadn't even taken them off before. Harry stood with less grace than usual. His free hand fisted the hem of his shirt briefly. "I'll come find you," he murmured, dropping Draco's wrist.

Draco couldn't think of an answer. Harry finally met his gaze. He hesitated, then rocked forward, slipping a hand around the back of Draco's neck, and pressed their mouths together. The kiss was just this side of fierce, breathy and deep, for its speed. Draco almost forgot to kiss back, and then it was over. Harry pulled back and turned away. His fingertips lingered, sliding off Draco's nape as he left the tent.

Draco took a moment to gather himself. The tent still smelled of Harry, and a little of sex. He swallowed, hands twitching, wondering if he should spell the air clear. Wondering if it was really all that recognisable a scent. He felt jittery, as if he'd just come very close to the edge of a drop-off.

They'd never planned it before. Not... as such. Planning could take the shape of pointed looks. Of jerks of one's chin toward wherever it was secluded and vacant. But they never said it aloud, never... made it official. Something that could actually be missed, if they weren't careful. He wasn't sure he was willing to go where that thought led, at least not purposefully.

Even if he was already there.

He counted to fifteen slowly, standing in the middle of the tent with the wind rushing by outside. They were all out there. Nothing had changed, he kept thinking it, a mantra in his head, nothing had changed, at least for most of them. He wasn't going to be walking out into a throng of staring people who knew what he and Harry got up to when they were all looking the other way. Only Granger had seen.

But it felt like it had changed.

He wondered what they would think of him declining the trip to town. Granger would certainly get it. The prediction of her knowing, perhaps accusing, stare made him flush. Now she'd always know, he supposed. He'd have to get used to it.

Draco walked to the edge of the tent and gripped the flap with an unsteady hand, then pushed it open and stepped outside.

~fin~


End file.
